


than to have loved and lost

by Renaisty



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-03 00:07:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14556573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renaisty/pseuds/Renaisty
Summary: There's a saying; 'better have no words at all'.There, in Ned's tidy writing, are words, standing out against his skin.The last words he'll ever hear Ned say.





	than to have loved and lost

**Author's Note:**

> Last chance. Spoilers for Avengers: Infinity War. You've been warned.
> 
> The title is a play on the quote 'it's better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all'.

There's a saying; 'words are heartbreak'.

They are, they really are.

Through the adrenaline, Peter doesn't even properly feel the burning in the back of his hand. Only when he gets a moment to himself, in the corner of a viewing deck, he notices a tugging sensation on his skin, like motion disturbing a freshly healed cut. He must have hit something in the fight. It probably doesn't warrant any more attention, but he'll check it over, just to be safe.

Alien business, after all, is nothing to sneeze at.

Unfortunately, despite how amazing the new suit is, it doesn't read minds. He can't just take off the part past the webshooter with a thought. Hesitantly, he calls for Karen, but she doesn't reply, probably powered down with the old suit.

The display of the suit reminds him of when he and Ned tried out virtual reality games. The thought makes him smile, and he focuses his eyes on the options. Soon enough, the metal disengages, protective layer ending at the right-hand webshooter.

The old suit under it looks pristine and untouched. For a moment, he's ready to reengage it, sure that there's nothing amiss.

But something feels _wrong_. He continues to fiddle until Karen's suit is open at the seams and he can finally pull it back.

There, in Ned's tidy writing, are words, standing out against his skin.

_we're all going to die there's a spaceship oh my god_

The last words he'll ever hear Ned say.

Peter can't breathe.

…

There's a saying; 'better have no words at all'.

No one can agree on that.

Ned hurriedly pulls back from the students crowding in the back of the bus, absently running his hand over the burning skin of his forearm. It's not like they can see what's going on anyway. The spaceship is a good distance away, and there isn't a handy pair of binoculars around.

Ned himself can't do much more than hope Peter will be alright.

He pulls back the right sleeve of his hoodie to see why it hurts; and stops breathing.

_i need you to cause a distraction_

The noise around him dies down until he can't hear anything but his heartbeat, too loud, too fast. He's dreaming, surely. This can't be reality because Peter is not his soulmate and Peter is coming back.

He always comes back.

Ned closes his eyes tightly, cradling his hand to chest, and tries to draw air that doesn't want to cooperate. Slowly, the blood rushing in his ears is replaced by screams and shouts, excitement and fear.

"Ned?"

It's Michelle, frowning in concern over him. Trying to imagine what he could say to her only makes him feel slightly hysterical.

'So, MJ, Peter is Spider-Man and he's probably not coming back from this. How do I know? We're apparently soulmates, and the last words I'll ever hear him say are my soulmark. No worries.'

That'd go over really well with everyone.

"I felt a little sick," he utters instead, voice weak and breaking. "Aliens, you know."

Michelle looks at him, disbelieving, but in the end returns to her seat and her book. She's never been interested in spectacles like alien ships; at least, that's what she likes everyone to think. If the reality is different, they wouldn't know.

"Thanks, though," he tells her, and she shrugs, but then, he can see a small smile on her face.

Ned pulls his arm a little away from his chest, just enough to see the writing again; make sure it's real.

It hasn't changed.

Taking his phone out, he presses the button that connects with Karen, only to hear static on the line. But the realisation hits him before he can call May too.

He doesn't know. He doesn't know who of them will die. Is it Peter, off to save New York, or Ned himself, dying of any number of inane causes?

Is it both of them, when the tattered Avengers fail to save themselves as well as the Earth?

He doesn't call May.

Then the news comes that cameras caught a Spider-Man-like figure getting on the ship before it left. They don't say it with certainty yet, but somehow Ned knows that's what happened.

In the very best scenario, nobody even has to die. Something might just keep Peter from returning. He'll be in another planet, or an alternate universe, and he'll be okay.

Alone. Forever.

Just like Ned, because he _knows_ , with all the certainty of someone whose soulmark just etched itself into being, that Peter was the person who had made Ned's heart his home, leaving it in shambles with only a few last words. He was The One.

Is. _Is_ the one.

But the thought feels like a lie and the words, pressed over his heart, are damning in their undeniable presence.

…

He can't go back.

Peter's holed up in an out-of-the-way room where he's positive they can't easily find him, trying and failing to appreciate the spectacular view of the universe drifting past. He's not sure where they're going, doesn't particularly care either. Not right now. They need to defeat Thanos, and that's all there is to it.

It's not like he's not afraid. But he has a purpose. Even if he dies, all alone without Ned of May, out here in the coldness of space, he'll have died for their sake. To make sure _they_ get to live.

He can't even think of the worst possibility. Ned has always been so bright and open, so _alive_ , that Peter can't process a universe where that has ceased to be true.

 _Soulmate._ The word feels strange, ill-fitting when applied to him. But not to Ned, not really. Somehow, Ned has always held, been, another part of his soul.

Wondering if Ned might be thinking the very same thing only makes him melancholy.

By now, the new suit has torn off Karen's suit a little over the wrist, and he can't seem to keep his eyes away.

The letters are neat, evenly spaced, the way Ned makes them when there's no rush. When they're doing homework in Peter's room, it's almost night-time, and they're waiting for the moment Peter will put the suit on and go be Spider-Man. Or when they're at Ned's, and it's a Saturday morning, raining outside while they're trying to come up with funny one-liners.

"Peter?" echoes a voice down the corridor outside.

"Engage," Peter says hurriedly, and the suit moves back up to cover his whole hand.

He gets to his feet just as the door slides open with a soft hissing sound, revealing just Tony Stark. No Iron Man suit.

"What are you _doing_ here," he starts, incredulous, "the party's down with the wizard."

"Somehow I don't think it's much of a party." He can't look him in the eye, irrationally sure that the man will be able to guess his thoughts.

"I'll give you that," Mr Stark grimaces.

"How did you find me?"

"You mean, after you turned off anything I could use to do it?" Peter nods. He's not sorry he needed time. Truthfully, he still needs some time, because he doesn't feel ready to face even the outside of this room. "I searched everywhere, of course."

 _Of course_ , indeed. Peter decides not to beat around the bush.

"I wanted to be alone for a while."

"It's understandable to be scared," Mr Stark says. "Well you shouldn't have stowed away," he looks at him disapprovingly, "like I've _said_." Peter can't exactly blame him; but he also didn't see the words before then. Hadn't known it was the last time he'd be with Ned. "You should really just stay on the ship."

That sends a burst of anger through him. If Mr Stark wanted him back on Earth, he shouldn't have made a _space-worthy suit_ his Plan B.

"I'll be fine, just. Just leave me alone." Okay maybe he's being unfair, but the situation is not helping. At the man's cocked eyebrow, he sighs; relaxes. "Please, Mr Stark."

"Ok," he looks up, as if to ask the universe where he went wrong. "You know the way back to the control room, I suppose?"

"Yeah."

"I'll leave you to your," he pauses, "whatever you're doing, then."

The door hasn't even closed completely when Peter turns a blank stare at the ceiling.

…

In the end, May calls him.

At home, everything's normal. New York got a scare, but there were minimal, if any, casualties. That said, his parents and Alice fawn over him for a solid ten minutes, making sure he's alright.

Ned isn't sure why he subconsciously expected his room to be any different than he'd left it. Maybe because _he's_ not the same person he was this morning.

The bed is made, and he thinks of Peter's perpetually rumpled sheets. His flashcards are ready for practice, for an academic competition neither of them may get to see. The Lego Death Star they built all those months ago only serves as a reminder of what he's losing, as a possible future for the Earth.

When May calls, he splutters, lacking the courage to tell her, at least over the phone. Five minutes later, he's knocking on the Parkers' front door.

May is already scared when she throws the door open.

"Ned." He can see her breathing hard, eyes shining with unshed tears. He tries to speak but the words don't come. Ned can only stand there, just outside the door, hoping against hope that this is not happening. "Ned, please. Is Peter…?"

He shakes his head. "No, no. He's not- he's. Alive."

She sags against the door. "Do you know where he is?"

He shakes his head mutely. May ushers him in the softly lit living room, closing the door behind them.

"Peter," Ned starts, and doesn't know how to continue. Instead, he pulls his sleeve up, letting his eyes wander over the words for the thousandth time.

May lets out a small, pained 'no' before reaching out, grasping his forearm. Two seconds later, she lets go, falling heavily on the couch.

"I'm sorry," he says. What else _can_ he say? "I'm so sorry."

"What for," May asks, voice trembling. She's shaking all over, he realises, holding her left arm to her chest, knuckles white on her shoulder.

Her arm… where Ben's last words to her had been.

They could do nothing for Ben. May and Peter had been left to pick up the pieces, and Ned knows how much guilt fell on his friend's shoulders; how heavy a load responsibility is to bear.

"Peter could only leave because of the distraction _I_ created."

They've done it before, of course. They've made it into an art form. This, though, was different. He could've stopped to think it through, caution Peter, that maybe he shouldn't get involved, that this looked bigger than anything he's ever faced-

"No." May's voice cuts into his thought. "You couldn't have known. There's nothing to be sorry for." She opens her arms, and Ned wraps his own around her. "It's on me," she says. "I didn't stop him."

"He wouldn't have stopped," he says, with certainty he doesn't completely feel.

"But he might have," she counters.

"If it's not my fault, then it's not yours. The only ones to blame are the bad guys," Ned says. Over her shoulder, his words are clearly defined and, for now, still there.

That night, he sleeps in Peter's bed, arm hugged to his chest, thinking of all the ways it, _they_ , can end.

…

Is this how it ends, Peter had wondered, when there was no oxygen to get in his lungs. Before he learned he'll never see Ned again.

Or is this how it ends, he wonders, with a blaster to his head, on an alien planet. Is this why he'll never see Ned again?

Maybe it ends like this. With Thanos's hand at his throat and air just beyond his reach. He'll never see Ned again.

…

The next day dawns bright and sunlit.

May has taken the day off. Ned can't bring himself to go to school, so they just sit together for a while. His parents don't even know, yet. He thinks, if they knew, they'd let him stay home; it's not every day you find your soulmate.

They don't know what they're waiting for. Peter won't just walk through the door any minute, and there's nothing they can do. The helplessness makes him anxious and he can't stay still.

Then car horns start echoing off the buildings. Rubber shrieks against asphalt, metal colliding with metal, screaming as it gets warped.

In the street outside, people are turning into ash and dust, getting carried away by the wind. In their cars, looking out their windows. Parents, children, babies.

Oh. That's how it ends.

…

One by one, they're crumbling into nothingness.

Thanos has all the Stones. He has won.

So, this is the end.

The suit disengages with a click.

…

His family is on the phone, and he can hear their voices. They're alive. Against all odds, all of them are still here.

May is holding on tight, looking at him as if for the last time. Any moment now, Ned is sure his body will start to collapse into sand.

The soulmark burns like Death herself.

…

To Peter's immense relief, the words are still there, stark against his skin; reassuring. Around him, almost everyone is gone. But not Ned. Not yet.

He can't know about May, and it's so painful. On Earth, she could be dead; dying; being left behind.

He doesn't feel so good.

…

The screaming hasn't stopped. The crying. But all Ned knows is his own existence, May's grip on his arm, and the soulmark still on his skin.

…

It doesn't hurt, Peter thinks, on the ground. He keeps his eyes open, keeps looking at the proof of Ned's life until existence fades away.

…

The soulmark turns into a scar, and Ned is still here. Alone. A half of something that will never be whole again.

…

…

…

…

Ned cries himself to sleep. That night, and the three nights that follow. May didn't disappear, but she's ghost-like, the glow of life bled out of her the same instant his soulmark scarred.

He can't be sure part of her didn't die with Peter, just as surely as a part of himself did. The part of his soul that was Peter is lost to the void.

The world itself is on its knees, half the population gone as so many sparks in the wind. There's no plan yet, since no one had ever anticipated destruction on this scale. Right now, he doesn't really care.

Ned hasn't left May's yet. He's not ready to, because is he steps foot in his room, in Midtown, outside the doorway… It will mean it's over.

The fourth night, he wakes in the dark to find the scar has disappeared, which is so much more than impossible. No soulmark scar can heal, an open wound to remind the heart of its loss.

He can't sleep anymore.

The living room is quiet, full of shadows. Ned has barely walked in when the door clicks open, light turning on to fill the space with warmth.

"Peter," he manages to whisper, sure of the dream.

Peter looks exactly like he did the last time Ned saw him, in his grey hoodie and that blue shirt about lettuce. His hair, windswept, is all over the place. His friend, his _soulmate_ , smiles, and Ned will be damned if he doesn't enjoy the brief respite of the illusion.

But when Peter's hands run down his arms they're made of life itself.

"You're alive," he breathes, only half-believing it himself.

"I love you," Peter says, low and heartfelt.

"I love you too."

He's never known a kiss could be electric, sweet and burning all at once.

They break away only to wake May, and when Peter falls into her arms, Ned sees words on the back of his hand. On his own forearm.

_peter you're alive_

_i love you_

There's something different about them, but Ned can't put his finger on what it is. Then May pulls him into the hug, and he almost forgets about it.

Almost.

"I love you," he tells Peter a few minutes later, breathless and purposeful all at once.

The soulmark doesn't change.

**Author's Note:**

> Some notes: How they were brought back? I don't know. I don't particularly care, as long as it happens, and I'm sure it will. But somebody messed with the universe and, probably unintentionally, now soulmarks appear at the first meeting. It's less tragic that way, I think.
> 
> I wrote and posted this pretty quickly compared to literally everything else I write so, if I made a mistake, that's probably why. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed! Constructive criticism welcome.


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